Can you remember the first time that someone actually called you fat? Like really said it to you?
I was dating this guy, Johnny. I was 24. And a single mom.
Johnny was fabulous in every sense of the word. He held my hand, he went shopping with me, he was good with my kid. I really liked him.
All of my friends told me over and over that they had heard he was gay, and I was his cover for his parents. Now how could that be? Johnny and I kissed and cuddled all the time. He was NOT gay. He showed a real interest in me. He was just thoughtful and not pressuring me into going all the way, because I was a single mom. And I repeatedly pointed out to him that I wanted to take things slow.
After 3 months of taking things slow, I was finally ready to move to the next level.
Johnny… not so much.
He finally came out to me.
I was so PISSED!
Do you mean that I wasted three months of my life and let my son meet “Mommy’s New Friend” for nothing?! I had to endure countless dinners with his parents all to find out that I was batting for the wrong team?
So I had no choice but to tell all of my friends that they were right. Johnny was using me as his cover. This got back to him, and he called me at work to say…
HIM: Meredith, I heard that you have been telling your friends that I am gay.
ME: Yeah, so what? You are! There is nothing wrong with that. And they want to know why you aren’t around. Besides, they’re the ones who told me months ago.
HIM: What if this gets back to my mom and dad?
ME: Johnny, you know what? I’m done with you! Just be honest with yourself and the next girl that you date! I really had feelings for you! Now I can’t trust you. You’re pretty much an ass in my opinion. So just don’t call me anymore!
HIM: Fine! I will never call you again! PORK CHOP!!!
I hung up the phone. And I just stood there in front of a bar full of customers, totally stunned. I just began to sob.
Did he call me Pork Chop? Like a pig? Pork Chop?
Was I fat? Was a size 10 fat?
Of course, some drunk at the bar wanted to hug me and comfort me. Although, I didn’t let him grope me, I did let him tell me (for the rest of the night) that I was beautiful and he didn’t deserve me anyway.
But it stuck with me. It was the first time I was ever told I was fat. And it was by a guy that didn’t ever want me in the first place because I have girl bits and not boy bits.
People can really suck. Why is that a come back? Why is calling someone fat ever okay?
Meredith Soleau was supposed to be a famous country singer, but her parents made her go to college and major in something “real.” She graduated with a B.S. in business, and landed a gig as a Human Resources Director at a large car dealership in Ohio. She is now a nationally recognized HR speaker and Social Media Professional. You can read more from Meredith on her blog, Meredith Soleau.
The first time I got called fat was in the third grade. It was not the last. The most recent time this has happened, my (then boyfriend) husband’s ex called me chubby, via their (then 5 year old) daughter. It went something like this:
Adorable Step-Daughter: I have a secret for you, but you can’t tell Daddy!
Me: Okay, whisper it in my ear….
Adorable Step-Daughter: My mommy thinks you are chubby….but I told her you are not!
Me: (trying to compose myself while smiling) Tell your Mommy thanks!
That one really stung, especially since the ex had made a big fuss about me coming up to her front door the last time we picked up the kiddo for a visit to be formally introduced; she just wanted to size me up.
I find that absolutely HORRIBLE. Not only because calling people chubby is mean and ridiculous, but because OH GOOD, let’s teach a five year old girl the beginnings of belittling people for their size.
That sounds like an AWESOME idea, especially since she now equates chubby as a negative term and heaven forbid some asshole on the playground call her fat or chubby, I am sure that will do SO MUCH GOOD for her self esteem.
But, good for you for being nice about it. I am way to assy to have responded that nicely.
I kind of want to throat punch his Baby Momma. And then pull her hair just for effect.
Yeah, she is an awful person and I’ve decided to kill her with kindness, until my step-daughter is 18, and then I can pretend she doesn’t exist anymore. I thank the powers that be every single day that the kiddo has her father’s disposition.
And Meredith, for the record, I have always thought you were stunning, and i always a little bit hated you for it, but I have had to look past my envy to be bffs with you.
Now a days, I honestly couldn’t even tell you what size you are, because I am far to busy staring at your boobs.
Awww! You called me your BFF! Did you hear that, World? A famous person is my BFF!
And thanks, I enjoy my boobs as well. And for the record…size 14. NOW I WEAR A SIZE 14!
But, I like pork chops. Covered in ketchup. With mac n’ cheese.
This means I like you.
I like you to. Like a cupcake. You are my Little Cupcake from here forward. Is that sexual harrasment since we work together?
Yes, and keep it up.
The first time I was ever called fat was in the third grade. A little boy on the playground pointed at me and laughed. It happened a lot as a little girl, and the sting never goes away. Right up until a few months ago (at 36), when a guy broke up with me (after a year) telling me I was “just not attractive.” It all came rushing back and suddenly I was that eight-year-old on the playground again.
Eleanor Roosevelt said, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” I guess “fat” is considered a come-back because it’s perceived as a weakness, and sometimes, we let it be. I think the thing to (try) do is take it back – if someone hurls it as an insult, hurl it back. Own it.
AGREE! That is why the lady at the gas station who almost ran me over and told me to, “Move that fat ass!” out of her way, was told right back that she needs to get her damn teeth fixed.
Is that what you mean by hurl it back? Because I feel like I am now a winner in your book. And that is fun.
I made pork chops for dinner last night. They were delicious and not the least bit fatty. (Just. Saying.)
You are gorgeous darling!
I was never overweight until after my first marriage ended. Heck, I was a cheerleader in high school and college. That cute blonde cheerleader with the bubbly personality who dated the football players and everyone loved. Then one day I wasn’t. I don’t know how it happened exactly but one day I was no longer thin.
My boyfriend at the time and I were planning a trip to Florida. I bought a new bathing suit and his response was “You aren’t going to wear that on the beach are you?” I let it slide. A few days later he made a comment (in front of his niece) about how I should’ve stopped wearing white years ago. But the straw that broke the camel’s back was when we were at a sports bar watching NFL one Sunday. We had been there ALL DAY. We had lunch at noon when we got there and around 7:30 or so that night, after drinking most of the day, I was getting the munchies. I mentioned to the waitress that I wanted to order an appetizer but since boyfriend was paying she needed to wait til he got back to the table. When he returned she came and asked for my order. His response to her “Look at her, she doesn’t need anything else to eat.” Yeah – after that I was done. Keep in mind, that during all of this he was paying for a gym membership, that I was using everyday because he told me when I was 120 pounds again he’d propose. According to him, the weight just wasn’t coming off fast enough. Puh-lease!
After that I was so self conscious. I thought every time I was in a restaurant that people were always staring to see what the “fat girl” was gonna order. Now I realize that I am just not that important in the lives of everyone else. But it took a long time for the sting of his words to go away. The way I look at it, if the worst thing someone can say about me is that I am fat, well then I must be doing something right.
First, you are super smart. I can totally tell.
Second, WHAT AN ASS!
Third, if you are single, I am the BEST matchmaker ever! I have put two couples together who are now married. And fat. And very happy.
Yes, We are fat and Happy and in love! Thank you Sis in Law
Sixth grade. I had a black and white bathing suit and my personal bully and tormentor, Amber (who for the record actually WAS fat, so I’m sure we could do some psychoanalyzing there), followed me around the whole day taunting “Free Willy Free Willy!”
It was a beach party, btw.
It was also the time of ‘Your mama’s so fat’ jokes, and yeah.
People are mean.
I don’t recall the exact age, but I know I was young. I don’t even know if this was the first time, probably not. I vividly remember being on the playground equipment, and being called “tub of lard”. In fact, I remember it happening on a regular basis, mostly from the class bully. Mind you, I was in private Lutheran school, and in a small combined class, and it still happened without consequences. I have been overweight my entire life, the only exception being about 3 years ago when I lost weight and was wearing a size 8 for the first time that I can ever remember. Even then, I felt like the fat girl. Guess you just never get over repeatedly being called something so mean.
I was in Jr High and we had open lunch. We all went to McDonalds but I used to only get a small order of fries for lunch. * i know better now:)* We all did. A group of girls/guys were sitting around a table and a boy, a cute popular boy at that, had a candy bar and was asking people if they wanted it. I said “no thanks”, and he said so I could hear,”you don’t need it anyway.” Ouch. I didn’t really react. I just died inside. I still remember it like it was yesterday. For the record, I wasn’t fat. I wasn’t a skinny stick figure like my friends but I wasn’t fat.
Why are people so mean and why does it start so early? My daughter is 6 with an absolutely beautiful, healthy, normal weight of a body. She is concerned that she is fat to the point where she will look in the mirror at her belly and worry that it is “big”. The other girls in her class, according to her, are really skinny and small; my girl is very tall for her age. This does not come from me – I NEVER EVER say anything about weight in front of her because I never wanted her to have the body issues I had growing up that I learned from my mother. I keep teaching her about treating our bodies well, eating healthy foods but enjoying the snacks in moderation, doing exercise because it’s healthy and fun, etc. What else can one do to counteract what they learn from their peers? I hate that it is in the air we breath.
I hear ya! My niece is 8, and she frets about her size. She is very small and is always picked on for being “chubby” and “short”. She is absolutely beautiful. I wish I could go to her school just one day as an 8 year-old girl and tell them all how pretty she is, and that they are just jealous because she has such a fabulous fashion sense.
This makes me so sad. But I’m so in awe to even find that there’s a mom like you. My mom is an active, healthy size sixteen, and she has NEVER said a good word about her body in front of me. I can’t completely blame my body issues on her, but she definitely helped. Now, at 5’8″ and a size 12, I can’t help but feel like she must be judging me, too.
Point is, thank you so much for being a mom who’s raising a little girl to believe that HEALTHY, not small, is the goal we should work toward. I hope that someday my fiance and I are parents like you.
Allie, thank you for your kind words. I grew up with a mom who had me and my siblings on a diet from a VERY early age because she was always on diets. We grew up without junk in our house, any candy we received for holidays was given away to our guests, our food was weighed and measured. NONE of us kids were even remotely overweight, let alone fat. We were normal sized kids who were taught to see ourselves as abnormal. This behavior cause us all to have weight issues as we got older. I battle with mine daily. I am determined not to pass that onto my children. Yes, they will understand at some point that I am overweight, but right now, they don’t see it and despite the number on the scale (which I am constantly working on lowering) my blood levels are all excellent. I hope that by modeling healthy choices and behaviors, I teach them how to have a healthy relationship with food and their bodies (I have 3 girls 7, 3 and 3).
You will be a wonderful role model for your future kids because you are aware now.
I was in 7th grade and we had to wear those tiny shorts for gym. I never thought I had a weight problem until another girl said “Oh my God you have huge thighs!” After that I became so self conscious and wore sweatpants to gym all the way through high school. I haven’t worn shorts since 1991.
When I was 10 almost 11 I was teased by a girl for being too thin and wearing small shorts… I was small but it was because I was incredibly muscular (I actually had a 6 pack from being at sports camp all summer)
Then towards the end of the school year I had softened up a bit (still small though) and some actual fat bitch had to keep nagging me about not being as thin as one of my other friends… Seriously she was giving me a hard time because I wasn’t thin enough, when she was 3 times my size, and barely taller than me (I am short)
Even though I know it was all ridiculous I am still really self concious now…
Plus, my mom likes to make comments about how much I eat… She is like. 0-2 with barely an A cup… I’m a 6 with large milk bags (for the moment)
When I was 9 I took a dance class and once during class I over heard my mom talking to another mother how the class would be good for me, because I would finally start to lose weight. It really hurt me that my own mother thought I was fat. Now I’m perfectly find with being slightly overweight, I carry it in a terrific hourglass shape that I’m proud of.
What a douche. He was just wrong on so many levels.
I don’t remember if it was the first time I was called fat but I do remember the most hurtful time. My dad was looking at my outfit and said that I needed to wear baggy shirts that went down to my knees. Then he asked me if I remembered when I was little (around three) and would sit on this lap and say, “Daddy, you’re fat!” and he would respond “Thank you.” I did remember, because he said thank you, I thought he liked being told that. Then he just said, “Kendra, you’re fat.”
I went in my room and cried.
I don’t even know what to say. I am so sorry that you went through that. So very sorry.
I’m sure it was before this time, but the time that I remember I actually slapped a boy who made ‘boom ba da’ sounds as I walked down the bus aisle. SLAPPED. As in red hand print on boys face!
Yup, 4th grade and 2 boys in my class called me thunder thighs. I have been self conscious about my legs since that day (18 yrs ago…). In fact, in college a friend of a friend told me one night that she had always wanted legs like mine (she was very thin, I’m atheltic and curvy) and I almost fell off of my chair. I still wonder what’s wrong with her.
I was 12. My family was going to the beach and I needed a new bathing suit because I had grown 32 DD boobs during the school year. I picked a very conservative 2 piece. My mother promptly told me that I was too fat to wear it in public. For the record I wasn’t fat. I wore size 5 jeans. I had curves, but I was TWELVE. and SIZE. FIVE. JEANS.
I don’t think I’ve ever recovered. I don’t trust her and I have zero self confidence. But I have boobs. And a husband who doesn’t think I’m fat even though I’ve gained 25 lbs in 2 yrs & now wear a 12 instead of an 8. I rarely feel sexy.
You were every 12 year old boy’s dream come true. You should just know that.
And dude, I know who you are, and you are SMOKING HOT!
I don’t remember the first time per se, but I remember my dad’s sister telling me that I take after their side of the family and that we were “pleasantly plump”. 1. My dad weighed (and still does) 600 lbs. 2. That was the day I learned how to make myself throw up. I was 7. I’m 30. Its been a long journey, but I’m learning that thin doesn’t mean happy and fat doesn’t mean miserable, and that the day I said “I do” my husband looked me in my size 14 eyes and thought I was pretty hot.
I remember I was 9, and at a yearly physical check-up with my pediatrician. He told my mother that I needed to join Weight Watchers. I was a normal-sized 9 year old, not overweight in the slightest, just trying to grow into her adult body. To this day, I can’t believe that anyone in their right mind would feel correct in telling a normal-sized child to go on a diet. I didn’t really even know what it meant then, but I knew it meant that something was wrong with me and it was my fault, and I remember sobbing the whole way home. I still have anxiety about going to my yearly physical for that reason. I wonder all the time what my life would have been like if I had been given the chance to grow up and physically mature naturally without being concerned with how much I weighed or what I ate since childhood. Since then, I’ve struggled with an ED and YEARS of self-hate towards my body, and I’m finally beginning to recover and uncover all of the years of negative messages I’d been feeding myself.
I (like so many others) don’t remember the first time I was told I was fat. I’ve been “big” my whole life, and honestly come from stocky genes. (My Granny had her stomach stapled in the 70′s and was/is still obese. Just so you get an idea.)
But the most hurtful time. My dad and I were having an argument (I was 13, and over the weekend he had told my mom that he loved her but wasn’t in love with her. Oh and it was their anniversary, oh and Easter, oh and he brought his “Friend”, male “friend,” down from north Carolina for Easter.)
Anyhow, when he was loosing the argument, because oh I had logic on my side, he told me to take my “Fat ass out of the room, and go eat something. You cow.”
For the next 4 years I was all over MSN, AIM, and Yahoo messengers whore chatting, and eventually doing things that I regret, to this day. And feel like it was a totally different person.
And before that incident I never had real ‘issues’ with my big boned self. Goodness, writing this comment I still have so much frustration with that man!
I was skinny through most of high school. But i went from a size 3 freshman year to a size 7 jr year, and a boy mentioned I’d gained weight. I felt worse than I had in years.
I didn’t really think I was fat, though.
12 years and three kids later, I’ve tried to lose pregnancy weight. Not easy after my first. Effortless after my second. Seemingly impossible after my third. He will be 2 tomorrow. I haven’t really lost any weight. I keep going down 5-10 pounds and gaining back.
About a month ago the doctor told me “Technically, you’re obese”
I was crushed.
I’m a size 12. It took me months to recover from a horrible c/s and ruptured uterus when my baby was born.
My daughter was in the hospital for a week in august. In september my uncle died days after heart surgery, but he had been recovering fine. I told the doctor I was beyond stressed, and he told me to do meal replacement.
Oh and to top it off, the dietician I saw wouldn’t help me because I’m nursing.
I don’t even know what to think now….
Being fat has been part of my identity as long as I can remember. My mother would tell everyone how hard it was to shop for me because I was so chubby and short and she had to make my clothes. Kids in kindergarten made fun of me for being fat. It’s just always been part of who I am.
Even at my smallest (size 8 for about a year in the 90s when I was working two jobs and living on coffee and cigarettes) I was still fat according to my doctor.
I know I need to lose weight for health reasons, but I also know now that I will never, ever be “normal”. It’s just not in my DNA cards. I still have many days when I throw myself a pity party over the fact that I will be forever fat, but most days I just accept that I will always carry excess pounds, so I need to put down the emotional baggage.
This is me. I am who I am.
Oh man. I don’t think I have ever admitted this out loud. I was skinny in high school and then as college went on, I wasn’t. Now I am 29 and still not skinny. When I was… 25, I think… I was walking down a really busy street at night… a street with a lot of bars and restauarants. I was walking in a group of friends. And literally out of NOWHERE this dude is on the sidewalk smoking and he points me out and yells, “You are fatter than my girlfriend. And my girlfriend is pregnant.” The embarassement was OVERWHELMING. My friends stood up for me and were wonderfully supportive but I could not for the life of me understand why he felt the need to call me out like that, in the middle of a crowded street. I did not know him. I had never said a word to him or even made eye contact. The only thing I could figure is I WAS really fat and that was cause for public ridicule. Wow. What a dick.
Pork chops are delicious, yo.. and that dude was a rude muther. You were kind not to find him and punch him in the junk.
I was in 3rd grade and the school doctor came to give check-ups. I was given a note to take home from the school nurse informing me mother of the results of the check-up. I will never forget the one word written in the nurse’s tiny handwriting…”obese”.
I was probably about 5’2″ and weighed 120. I was mortified beyond belief. I even looked up the word to make sure I knew what it meant.
I will never forget that.
Wow that’s horrible. I can’t believe the school nurse would actually do that you, to anyone D:
I swear people don’t realise how much damage they can do with their “harmless” words and actions.
So horrified by the cruelty in the world. A former boyfriend called me “fatty” once (when i was a size 7 no less!)…it hurts like no other insult.
However, I’m also shocked by several comments here saying “and she was actually fat”. Wait, just because someone bullied you doesn’t make it right to throw around “fat” and “fat bitch” out into the world. Let’s be the better people and stop using these negative words so comfortably!
Oh these stories are sad sad sad!
I was in middle school at a skating party and a boy (who I kinda liked) called me a cow.
I went home and cried and cried and my mom told me after I’d grown up that she’d wanted to go do something very mean to him. I’m glad she didn’t. Now, as a mom myself, I know I probably wouldn’t restrain myself so well if that happened to my kid.
I was in grade school. My little brother was about 5, so that would have made me 10. My dad told me that I was chunky and needed to lose weight, to stop eating junk food. And that it was my mom’s fault because they kept too much junk food in the house. I mention my brother because my response was that my brother wasn’t skinny either so I didn’t understand why my dad was bothering me. My dad said that my brother was fine because boys could be stocky. I was ruined from then on, and it didn’t get better for a long time. For my 23rd birthday he bought me diet pills, which resulted in conversation about when would be a good time to have plastic surgery, which, by the way, is after I’m 35 if I remember correctly.
Over 20 years later and I still have weight issues. I’ve accepted that I won’t be a size 2 again, but have a hard time with being anything over 120lbs…which I haven’t been in 6 years now. I’ve also had issues with my husband’s ex-wife making statements about my weight, both online and to my 5yr old stepson. I don’t understand the joy of calling another person fat, especially another woman. I know where my dad’s comments came from, he expected every woman to be the size of the girls in Playboy…and he made that fact known all my life. Didn’t hurt any less, but I still understood. But why a woman, who has the same type of weight issues, would put that type of thing onto another woman is beyond me.
I was never skinny-minny. Never had it, never had the chance to maintain what I never was. But I was not fat, or even chubby-not until ages 14-17. I started to get develop at age 8 and was a D cup by 8th grade. I rode horses, rode my bike all over creation, and loved to go on long walks. Kids started calling me fat in elementary school. I hated myself in high school when I finally did get big at 5′ and 155 lbs. I started to purge and starve myself at the end of Junior year and lost 30 lbs. I’ve kept it off and lost an additional 10 lbs. I am 36 now and still feel grotesque and misshapen.
I was in sixth grade. I was very thin, and very active. I had taken dance since I was 4 years old, and was 10/11 at the time. The class bully called me porky and I burst into tears. That was my nickname for the rest of the year. My best friend at the time (who was a little chubby) stood up for me and defended me. But, the next school year, came back to school stick thin. Within a summer, she had lost 40 pounds. I still believe, 17 years later, that she had/has an eating disorder.
In college, I was in a relationship for 3 years. During that time, I went from 140-160. After we broke up, my diet consisted of alcohol and cigarettes. In 2 months, I lost 20 pounds. I looked great, but was dead on the inside. At the age of 22, I joined the military.
I’m 28 now, and have struggled with my weight for the last 3 years. Prior to getting pregnant in 2009, I was at 160, right under the weight limit for my height. I lost 40 pounds last year to make weight, but have put 25 back on. It is never easy knowing that your job depends on your weight. No matter how many miles I run or stairs I climb, I sometimes feel that I’m always that girl w/ the nickname of porky.
I was in 9th grade and a group of students including me where starting a strike for something i can’t remember. We marched around during recess bellowing “we’re on strike!”
After that during period 3 a friend comes up to me and says that another person n my form said that santa was on strike. That really stung. For what i wasn’t even fat, i was normal for my age. I wasn’t stick thin as my peers but i wasn’t fat or overweight.
I was 24, I was thin most my life but when i started college my social life caught up with me. I was to caught up in study that I forgot to exercise and eat too much. I gained 3 stone without really noticing. I was out one night in town clubbing at the end of the night one of the girls sugested we go for food, I agreed. at this point one of the lads we were with said of course you do fatty and grabbed my belly and started shaking it..I just laughed it off but it really hurt me..I have since lost the weight
I feel incredibly lucky to not be able to remember ever having been called fat. This probably isnt because it’s never happened though, more because for as long as I can remember I’ve maintained an F- you attitude when anyone says anything negative. I’ve become incredibly thick-skinned because I’ve grown up subjected to such a screwed up attitude towards weight thanks to my [overweight] father. I’ve been curvy forever, played every sport available to me, but my father’s favoured description whilst I was a teenager (and a size 8-10) was “anorexic stick-insect”, whilst also referring to me as “fat-ass”. I feel incredibly blessed that somehow I ended up being able to ignore all of his bullshit about my appearance. I’m a beautiful, strong, empowered mummy to my gorgeous 4 year old, married to the most amazing man in the world who makes me feel phenomenal. I refer to my appearance now as the perfect 10; I’m 5’10”, wear a size 10 shoe and a size 10 dress. And if anyone has any issue with that, I simply point out that I used to play rugby so I’m probably not someone you’d want to upset.
I was an average girl right up through 23, but the stress of family illness, living away from family and planning a wedding on my own caught up with my genetic predisposition to hold weight. I’ve been slowly gaining weight since I was 18 (I’m now 26). I bet I got some flack before, but I don’t really remember anything traumatic until last year. I am a bellydancer and an owner of one of the places I dance at complained about my weight. To soften the blow, they had one of my close friends tell me, but she is tall and thin as an underwear model! After crying all weekend, I wend right out on Monday for a 1 hour power walk that gave me bloody toes (poor, torn up shoes to blame). I lost 10 lb in 3 weeks, but have since gained twice that back
I can remember as a kid, probably 7 or 8 yrs. old, going to see our family physician – an old fart whose cure for everything was shot of penicillin – and having him ask me if I had a boyfriend and then telling me I never would because boys didn’t like fat girls they couldn’t put their arms around. I was on Ayds diet candies before I even had my first period, diet pills shortly after, and I joined Weight Watchers for the first time when I was 13. My mother’s brothers, who were all tall and skinny and ate like horses (but are now pot-bellied and bald) constantly called me, my mom and her sister fat or fat-ass or lard-ass, and never failed to point out what we were eating at every family dinner.
I have had weight issues my entire life, and am bigger now than I’ve ever been. Every day is a struggle to keep my head up and not let my self-image bring me to my knees. Every time I have another failed relationship, I find myself thinking that if I was smaller, maybe he would have been attracted to me and would have wanted to stay. I often wonder what it would be like not to feel ashamed of my body every single day.
I remember being in high school gym class, not sure what grade. We were learning a dance where we had to rotate partners, and I remember strategically placing myself so that I would end up with the boy I had a crush on. Right beside him was this complete dick who thought he ran the world, and unfortunately he was my next partner after dreamboat. I had an uneventful dance with said dreamboat (I had such low self esteem, I probably didn’t say a word or even look at him the whole time). When it was time to rotate to jerkface, he said “hey, you, fat girl, it’s time to dance with me” and my crush LAUGHED! I think the laughing part killed me the most.
My current boyfriend loves me the way I am but his mom is a marathon runner and his sister an aspiring Olympic speed skater, both of them are smaller than me and it bugs me a lot. Not so much with his sis because she is a crazy athlete and trains all the time, but his mom is like 50 years old and has a completely flat stomach, tiny little legs and arms. They tease each other all the time about being fat and gaining weight and I always have to wonder what they think of me. I don’t think I am fat (5’6″, 155 lbs) but I am definitely bigger than those women and it’s hard for me to even go in the hot tub at their cabin with his family because I am so self-conscious about my body. My friends are also all thinner and fitter than me, and I kind of doubt that all of them would stick up for me if someone called me fat in public. There are a few who would probably secretly agree. The only time I’ve had a thin, fit body was when I was in an emotionally abusive relationship, eating nothing and working out until I felt faint and nauseous. I was hungry, anxious and miserable all the time, but I was a size 4 with defined abs!
One of the worst things ever said to me was from my own father when I was 13. I had been DYING to get this winter coat and I BEGGED my dad to buy it for me. So while me and my mom were shopping, my dad went to a different store to look for the coat. About and hour later he came back empty-handed. I asked him what had happened and he told me he went to the store to look for the coat. When he asked the sales lady if they had the coat in an XL she said they didn’t sell clothes for fat people…
There was no sales lady. My dad had made up the “joke” and was laughing as he told me. He still doesn’t know how much that hurt me.
Well, one of the most painful comments I’ve had thrown at me, came from my mom on Christmas Eve, this Saturday.
I’ve never been fat per se, but I have some extra junk in my trunk, little bit of love handles and a bit of a tummy. In other words; chubby. It was when I hit puberty I started to gain some weight, as many girls do, and my mom hasn’t exactly been holding back on the comments and hints about me losing weight. I lost some weight last spring, but lost all my motivation after summer and gained a lot of it back. And of course my mom has let me hear it.
Anyway, after dinner this Saturday, we were eating cake and opening presents, and with me having an incredible taste for cake, candy and everything sugary, I thought I would have another piece of cake. After all it’s christmas. When everybody was done eating my father stated how full that cake makes you, and my mom agreed and quickly added the comment: “Yeah, and there’s only one person here who’s had two pieces!” – followed by “HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH!”
I was an inch away from excusing myself, going upstairs and crying my eyes out.
The only time I was ever called fat to my face was in high school, by a guy I dated for about 6 weeks in 8th grade. Like a lot of the stories here, I was about a size 10 at the time – a bit chubby for my frame but no big deal. We were having a conversation in class, and I think he was trying to distract me from my argument because, as I was excitedly talking up a point, he simply stared blankly at me and said “K, you’re fat.” Thick-skinned and socially clueless as I am, recognizing that this is a guy who will say anything to piss someone off, and also that he probably had 2 or 3 times the waist measurement I did, I just laughed at him. Then I went home and told my parents – my mom has never stopped making fun of him since.
I just need to get this out of my system. This is just happened half an hour ago. I went to a store to buy dinner and this toddler kept pointing at me and laughed. Shouted “she has a huge ass!” His mom and brother was there and did not do anything. I rushed home and cried. I know that people often making fun of my weight behind my back, but to be called out so…bluntly is a whole different level of insulted feeling
I remember distinctly being called fat by a boy on the playground in 4th grade. My friend and I had been friendly play arguing with him when it turned mean and he told me I was fat. I remember looking over to my friend and she not saying anything to defend me. I just remember that look.
Also I remember my uncle always being mean and pointing out to my mother that my stomach was sticking out. She would come over and he’d say “oh now she’s just sucking it in”. My mother was okay about it though and her response doesn’t stick out as being bad.
Finally very recently actually I was walking down the street wearing shorts as summer had just started. They are a bit short but I felt fine in them and have no qualms about my legs. But as I was walking across a street in a busy neighborhood I passed 3 guys and I heard one of them say “she’s way too big to wear shorts that short”. That sort of just devastated me because I thought I could wear them just fine.
Anyway, those just stick out to me and maybe it’s happened more times but really those are the times I remember.
I am fairly chubby for a boy – I was out enjoying the hot sun a few weeks back, so I was wearing shorts and a favourite top of mine – I was walking along this road when I heard two young boys on bikes, who passed me and shouted: “Fat bum!” I noticed that my shorts and t-shirt were more tight-fitting than I realised and that my bum stuck out and is wiggly. Embarrassing!!
I just turned fourteen a couple weeks ago. And now a freshman in high school.
But the first time I was called fat was in 4th grade. It was in front of the whole class. We were doing these health reports, and a girl decided to do weight. She vaguely explained the weight classes, but then she went into dept about obesity. I knew what was going to happen. She hated me, and called me ugly many a times. But I saw it coming. I tried to leave, get the hell out of there. But my teacher insisted, I wait to go to the restroom. Then it came out, “You should exercise so you don’t become a fatty, like Rose!!!” The taunts. The laughs. The pokes. And my cries. My teacher did nothing… The girl giving the report, was her favorite. And she was best friends with the her parent. I was bullied for the rest of the year, I told my parents numerous times. They would go to the school, and talk to the teacher/principal/counselor. NOTHING WAS DONE. The teacher, and everyone in the class refused to admit it. It got to the point where I wouldn’t eat. I developed anorexia, and bulimia, as 10 year old. And I had seen things on T.V. where people got sad and killed themselves. And it was a way to get away. So i tried. I took a shit ton of ibuprofen. And I ended up being rushed to the hospital to get my stomach pumped. The schools way to get around this was to, “skip a grade.” They said it would get me away from those girls. And we lived in the middle of no where b.t.w. so the next school was about 4 hours away. So my parents let me skip a grade. It didn’t help much. But I got tired of seeing the worry in my parents eyes. So I said things were fine.
Not long after we moved to a different place, halfway across the country. “People weren’t going to call me fat here,” I thought. Because I was still awfully small, considering I was recovering from an eating disorder. But I stopped excessivily exercising, and starving myself, and I gained a little weight. I’m only a few pounds over weight, now. But, even in the smallest, nicest of towns. People, still call me fat. Including my father.
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